


Soulmate's Soulmate

by aintweproudriff



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: M/M, Multi, Prompt Fill, Reincarnation AU, Soulmate AU, i might like it i might not, new writing style that im trying, typing with a cat on your chest is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 20:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12239706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aintweproudriff/pseuds/aintweproudriff
Summary: Prompt: Reincarnation/Soulmate AU where meeting your soulmate(s) unlocks memories of your past life





	1. Race and Albert

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively titled: My Writing is Weird and Disjointed

Really, Race’s soulmate situation wasn’t a big deal. It was only that the soulmate system was the most important thing to everyone and their dog, and worked perfectly for everyone besides him.   
He was more than happy, for example, that his parents had found each other. He’d only heard the story a million times: they met in college, and all of a sudden they looked into each other’s eyes and remembered their past life together, the one in the 1920s where they had immigrated to the United States together from Italy. They’d lived a happy life, dying peacefully in the late 60s. And then both of them had been reincarnated, being born again in the mid-70s.   
If they hadn’t met and been soulmates, he never would have been born. Or at least, not in the century he was currently living in. He knew he’d have been born at another point, to different parents, in a different city or country, in a different time period. 

Sometimes it was nice to know that at least he had a soulmate. Sometimes it was nice to know that he’d lived before, even if that was sometimes the only way he was sure he could live at all. 

-

He’d felt it first when he was really young. Only ten years old and bowled over with emotions and memories, staring at a freckled face, partially obscured by red hair. 

And it hurt. It hurt like hell. It cut through his stomach, it drained his heart and mind until there was only room for the memories of his past life. 

Albert was his name. And it was a name that triggered the sound of chatter on a busy street corner and the smell of smoke from chimneys in the morning air. It brought back the feeling of calloused hands from pumping water for washing, of frozen fingers from long nights in the cold. It was working dawn til dusk, standing on the same corner and hawking papers until his throat was sore and still not having enough money to buy dinner. It was watching the rain pour and know you had to stay out longer, and it was huddling under an awning and pulling one jacket around two people to stay warm and dry. 

-

He’d thought, for a second, that maybe Albert saw him the same way: that his head was full of the same stories and good times. But he’d tried asking, to no avail. To Albert, Race was someone who only existed in the twenty-first century. Race wasn’t Albert’s soulmate, despite having been at one point. 

Sometimes people change. Race knew that, because he was not the same person he’d been in the 1890s. Sometimes, even soulmates change. Race knew that, because his soulmate was not the same person he’d been in the 1890s.


	2. Albert and Elmer

Albert could remember seeing the stars. He’d watched them when he was young, out his bedroom window. He’d even owned books about the patterns of the stars and the way they moved. He’d learned all their names, and theorized about the life that could live out there. What he loved most of all about the stars, though, is that they were the same stars he watched in his past life.   
He’d always known they were the same stars he’d seen years ago. That was logical, a given. But he’d never understood that he had lived at a time in which stars were always visible. 

-

Even in his past life, he’d loved the stars. He learned this fact about himself when his eyes connected with another boy’s eyes, and he’d fallen over with the velocity of the new memories. Very literally fallen over, and tripped right onto the boy’s desk. 

Him and Elmer, sitting on a rooftop penthouse. The city looked like a pool of water, and the lights were only reflections of the stars. They could, together, name almost every star in the sky. There were enough to learn about to keep them occupied for weeks, and it usually worked. That was, it worked when there weren’t other things with which they could be occupied. And as long as both of them were there, there were always ways to keep busy. There were always cheeks and jawlines to trace with thumbs, always lips to bite at and words to fumble over. There were always hands to hold, and eyes to look into. 

-

“Do you know the name of the north star?” Albert had asked, pushing himself up from the spot on the floor where he had landed. 

“No, how would I know that?”

“It’s Polaris. Now you know.”

-

They’d been inseparable. On the nights it was too cold to sit on the roof, the two of them had always shared a bed. Albert could remember, in every sense of his body, the way it had been when Elmer’s face was right next to his own. His breathing, his eyelids fluttering, his hand on Albert’s waist, and his shivering when it truly got too cold to only have one little blanket between the two of them. All those years ago, Albert had pulled Elmer close to his chest and hoped he would be warm enough. Sometimes the trembling had stopped, sometimes it hadn’t. 

-

But it couldn’t have mattered. In this life, they were friends. And they were good friends. Close enough that Elmer could tell when Albert felt uncomfortable, and that he knew Albert hated talking about soulmates and rebirth. Albert wished, more often than he would admit, that Elmer would bring up the topic.


	3. Elmer and Spot

He was running when Elmer remembered. Spot was the only person he even sort of knew in his gym class, so on the first day of senior year, they ran around the track together. But suddenly, he wasn’t training to run a mile in three weeks. Instead, he was running from cops down a long street, with the same boy at his side. They were dodging pedestrians, trying their hardest not to laugh at the situation they’d found themselves in.   
Why had that been illegal anyway? It wasn’t like they had stolen anything, and they hadn’t hurt anyone. Well, maybe it had hurt a little bit. But what hurt more was the way his lungs burned in the hot air, smoke filling his mouth, and his feet having to move at top speed just to be safe again. 

They had finished the two laps around the track, every stride the same. And just like they had - who knows when - they had collapsed on the ground under the shade of a tree. Elmer’s mind was moving faster than his feet ever could have. He remembered sitting under a tree, and the way he wanted to return to what they had been doing. But if a bull could find them hidden away where they had been, there was no way they wouldn’t be caught here. 

Spot hadn’t seemed to care, as his hand draped over Elmer’s leg, rubbing circles that moved higher and higher upwards. 

He had snapped back to life when Spot spoke. 

“What’s that look for? Not feelin’ great about that run? Too hard for you?” Spot elbowed Elmer in the stomach. 

“Hm?” Elmer studied Spot’s face. “No, I just uh, I just had kind of a weird deja vu moment. You ever get those?”

Spot clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “No, not really. That’s weird though, man. Maybe your soulmate’s up to somethin’.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

-

So that answered that question, didn’t it?


	4. Spot and Race

Life sucked. That was something of which Spot was sure. No matter the century you lived in, no matter if you had met your soulmate, life just sucked. No way around it. 

Life had sucked in 1890, when he had been seven years old and terrified. Life had sucked in 1895, when he was twelve and rising through the ranks of Brooklyn. Life had even sucked when he’d made it, when he was at the top, in 1899. Life had sucked in 2008, when he’d again been seven and terrified. Life had sucked again in 2013, when again he was twelve and making a life for himself: something no twelve year old should have to do. Life sucked sometimes when heas sixteen, even though he’d made it. 

More than that, it sucked when he remembered.   
Memories flooded his mind; sitting too close during poker games, slipping each other aces, making sure one of them had a good enough hand to win and then splitting the winnings between themselves. Laughs that were almost giggles, jokes that were almost truthful, and truths that were almost jokes. Hands where hands were not supposed to go, one pair of feet following another willingly, each ready to follow the other off the Brooklyn Bridge if asked. 

Life didn’t just suck, it was dangerous. 

But maybe it wasn’t life that was dangerous for Spot. Maybe it was Race. Because yeah, life could suck a little less around him. Regardless of the century. That was, until the memories were all Spot could think of, and Race would hardly look in his direction. Sure, they were friends. But they only spoke when Race needed Spot for something, and Spot was too afraid to let himself talk to Race any more than he needed to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did just post four chapters at once. fight me.


	5. Race and Albert and Elmer and Spot

The four of them found themselves in many ways in the years following their revelations. They began to understand the way the world had always worked: that while it wasn’t always perfect, there were always good things about it. The began to understand the way the world had used to work: boys like them slummed it in the streets, hoping they wouldn’t get sick anytime soon because if they did, they would lose the money they needed to eat. They began to understand the way the world worked now: systems aren’t perfect, but - in rare instances - they do work out the way they’re supposed to. 

Race, Albert, Elmer, and Spot found themselves in a room together, surrounded by dingy loveseats, empty bottles, and dirty clothes. The only light in the room radiated from a small television in the corner, one that wouldn’t stop making a buzzing noise as it’s screen changed from an old movie to commercials and back again. There was something calming about the scene, in theory, but none of them could tell if the stuffy and warm feeling was from the environment around them, the weed, or the booze. It didn’t matter what it was; they felt it like a blanket wrapping around them, pulling them closer together until they were all leaned up against each other. They were too close, just like they had each known they had been all those years ago. But now, just as it was then, they didn’t pull away. They couldn’t pull away, because there was some kind of gravitational force keeping them together. 

Race’s head poked out from above Spot’s. “What do you guys-” he hiccuped, causing Elmer to giggle. “What do you guys know about your past lives?”

“A lot,” Spot grumbled, unable to hide the hints of anger in his voice. 

“Like what? When was it? Where was it? Who were you?” Albert rubbed his face with his hand, trying to talk to keep himself awake. 

“It was a couple centuries ago, in New York City. Might be ironic that I live on the same block as I did back then. I was a newsboy, sellin’ papers for a big newspaper,” Spot slurred, his brain unable to stop the way his mouth ran away from him. “It was nice, I guess. Lotsa freedom, not like here where it’s always ‘get a job, do your homework.’”

Each of the boys’ eyes were laser-pointing at Spot. 

“What are you lookin’ at me for?” he glared around. 

“Spot,” Albert sat up straight, nearly falling over as he did so. “What year was that?” 

Albert’s reaction pulled Race up. If Albert knew about where he had been, once upon a time, then maybe Albert might remember Race. 

“Dunno, eighteen eighty, wait no. Eighteen ninety-something? Late nineties? Why do you care?”

“Spot,” Elmer spoke. Race’s jaw was too clenched together to say anything. “Ninety nine, maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

Now it was Albert’s turn to stop and stare. “Elmer,” he squinted his eyes. “How did you know that?”

The warm atmosphere of the room dulled. 

“I, uh, guessed?” Elmer raised his eyebrows. 

“There’s no way you guessed that!” Spot leaned his head back, laughing as loudly as he could, and showing the effects of his drinking that night. 

“You didn’t guess that, did you, El?” Albert whispered reverently, his face flushing. 

“No.”

“Who is it? That took you back?”

“It’s Spot,” Elmer said in a shushed tone, and the world around them slowed. 

“Spot?” Race spoke for the first time. 

Spot looked up when his name was mentioned a second time. “Hm? No, that’s not right, ‘cause my soulmate’s-” he paused, trying to think of the name. “Ra- oh shit nevermind.”

Everyone could see Elmer wring his hands. “Who is your soulmate?” he bent down to look Spot in the eyes. 

“Race.”

Suddenly, all the focus shifted. And Race was in the spotlight. His cheeks flushed, he started stuttering. 

“Race,” Albert breathed. “What was your past life like?” 

Okay, so that would be easier. He didn’t have to say who his soulmate was, he could just talk about how-

“I was a newsie. We, uh, worked a lot. Pretty much every day, all day. But we were good kids, y’know? We worked hard and we did what was right, and at the end of the day we still tried hard to be kids. We still wanted to play games and roughhouse. Any of the money I made was gambled away. Well, I needed somethin’ to do. Oh, and we shared everythin’. We was always in the same beds, in the same clothes, eatin’ the same food. It was good. I miss it sometimes, I think.”

They let him talk, because god knew they all needed to. 

“Race?” Elmer poked his side, bringing him out of his memory. “Who made you remember it?”

He took a gulp from a bottle. “Al.”

“Albert, lemme guess,” Spot said, his mind keeping up but his senses lagging behind. “So yours is Elmer, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Albert gasped, his eyes meeting those of his soulmate. 

-

It was a blackout after that, one of a heat that wasn’t stuffy anymore. Memories flooded back, but no matter how powerful they were, they couldn’t have torn them away from the task at hand. All four of them thought of long nights, ones that were too similar to this one, in a small back room of a theater or a bedroom that wouldn’t be empty for long. 

All four of them remembered the mornings, the ones where the sun broke through the windows and all of a sudden, the world was right and you had found where you belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know with kudos and comments what you thought of it. Prompts are still closed over on tumblr @javidblue, but you can follow me there and see what I'm putting up.

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on tumblr @spot-and-all-his-cronies or @javidblue


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